Oceans Away
by PFTones3482
Summary: "You'll do great. And even if you don't, no one will care." Lance snorted, lifting his glass to his lips and looking at Keith over top of it. "Why's that?" "They'll be too busy staring at your ass."


**Oceans Away**

 **Song credit to ARIZONA (Fanfic won't let me add excess spaces ugh). Story idea from friendo Megan. I listened to this damn song like five hundred times while writing this.**

 **I don't own Voltron, blurb blurb blurb. Cross posted to my AO3 account and Tumblr (takingovermidnight3482 and pftones3482, respectively)**

* * *

"I cannot _believe_ that you guys got me this gig!" Lance squealed, punching Hunk repeatedly in the arm as they waited for Pidge to talk to the bouncer. "Seriously, how awesome are you guys?"

"I'd be more awesome if I left with my arm intact, buddy."

Lance grinned sheepishly and pulled his hand away, fiddling with the end of his shirt instead. "Sorry, Hunk. How do you and Pidge know about this place, anyway? I've never heard of-" he squinted at the neon rainbow sign above them "-the 'Voltron Lions' before. It's not a strip club, is it?"

"Lance, if this was a strip club, do you think I'd be wearing _this_?"

Hunk and Lance glanced up to see Pidge standing there, her brother Matt alongside her with an amused smile on his face. His arms were crossed over a plain black t-shirt that said "Hey Bartender" along the back, and he was wearing a pair of jeans and converse. Really, if Lance was being honest, the only sexy thing about the outfit was the way Matt's biceps strained at the sleeves. "Dude, there are some people who would pay you to wear that for them. Got the whole 'dark and dangerous' look down."

Matt rolled his eyes, having put up with Lance's commentary since he was pre-pubescent. "Whatever. You want that gig or not? I convinced Allura that you were a good singer, and she's taking my word on it. I don't want to be out of a job if-"

"Hell yeah I'm up for it!" Lance yelped, leaning down and scrabbling with his guitar case. Hunk adjusted his grip on the cart that was tugging their equipment and they followed Matt and Pidge inside, nodding to the mustached bouncer as they passed. He gave Lance a smile, eyes twinkling almost dangerously, and Lance decided it was probably best not to tease the guy about his facial hair.

"Allura's over there," Matt said, pointing to the stage. A dark skinned young woman was bent over something, platinum white hair pulled back into a ponytail and hands clenched around a pair of pliers. "Our mic stand keeps slipping, so she's trying to fix it."

"I'll go help her," Pidge offered, darting away before anyone could argue.

Lance glanced around the room curiously while Matt led them to the back room that was used to store the band's equipment when they had live music.

It was very clearly a nightclub that you had to hear about to get in, as there weren't all that many people there yet. Granted it was only about 9:30, but still. The dance floor was checkered with red, black, and white tiles, and the floor was lit with yellow, blue, and green lights that flashed in time with the music. A couple of people hovered around the edges, like they wanted to dance but weren't quite sure if it was socially acceptable yet.

The main dining area, or at least, the area with the most tables and booths, was decorated in a futuristic chrome-y way, strips of pink and pale orange running up and down the booths and the chairs decorated with the same colors over white fabric.

Lions were all over the place; stuffed lions, photos of lions, sculptures, statues, female, male. A few patrons that passed Lance held glasses with roaring lion heads etched into them.

"What's with the lion theme?" Lance found himself asking.

Matt chuckled. "Allura's father, who owned the place before her, was super into lions and lion conservation. He was a zookeeper before he opened here, if you'd believe that. Actually, all of our tips we get go to zoos that preserve the lion population."

"That's really cool," Hunk noted. "So like, Asiatic lions, or-?"

Lance tuned them out, finding the bar in the center of the room and running his eyes appreciatively over the body of the other bartender there, his arms bulging even more than Matt's and his low slung jeans clinging to a nicely sculpted-

"Lance?"

Lance whipped his head back to Matt, trying to pretend like he hadn't just been glossing over his coworker. "Yeah?"

Matt gave a smirk, as if he knew exactly what Lance had been doing. "Here's the room. Only Coran and Allura and I have keys to it, so your stuff will totally be safe."

He followed Hunk into the room, stopping and glancing back at Matt as the man grabbed his elbow. "Shiro's straight, by the way," he whispered, his tone teasing. "Married to Allura, actually. Trust me, I tried that."

Lance was certain he was the color of a tomato, but before he could protest, Matt continued. "His brother, though? Totally hot. Totally gay."

He left at that, leaving Lance to nearly fall over at his sudden escape. Flushed, he stepped into the room and helped Hunk unload the cart of the things that they needed, namely the amp and his guitar.

"What was that about?" Hunk asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Lance scowled and punched Hunk again, ignoring his protests. "Nothing, loser. Help me get this stuff to the stage."

Hunk chuckled but left it alone, and they grabbed their stuff and followed the signs backstage until the came out through the curtains, in time to see Allura high five Pidge triumphantly. "Nice work, Pidge!"

"It was just a loosened bolt," the girl said with a modest shrug but a proud smile on her face. "Just needed replacing. Oh, there you guys are. Allura, this is Lance and Hunk."

Allura stood and dusted off her jeans, thin golden bracelets jangling as she held out a hand. "Pleasure to meet you," she said cheerfully, shaking Hunk's hand first. "Pidge and Matt have spoken highly of you."

"I doubt that," Lance laughed, gripping her hand and jolting when her grasp was stronger than he had anticipated.

Allura laughed. "Well, maybe _most_ of the time. But I'm pleased you wanted to sing here. The customers always enjoy live music. Your set runs until midnight, and as long as you and your crew are of age-" she shot a pointed look at Pidge on that "-you are granted two free drinks per hour."

They dug out their IDs while Pidge pouted and, after getting the go-ahead from Allura, started setting up their equipment. "It's dumb that I do just as much as you guys and can't get a lousy hard cider," Pidge muttered.

Lance chuckled, ruffling her hair even while she squawked in protest. "Two more years, Pidgeot. Two more years."

"Lame. Whatever. I'll finish setting up while you guys go get food. Your set doesn't start until 10."

They thanked her and hopped off stage, mingling through the crowd to the bar and grabbing menus from the stand on the edge of it. "We should probably just get appetizers," Lance noted. "Or at least, I should. Don't want to like…puke on stage."

Hunk glanced sideways at him. "Are you nervous, dude?"

Lance pursed his lips and his fingers tightened on the menu, eyes staying locked on the food options. "No way!"

Hunk raised an eyebrow and set his menu down, crossing his arms. Lance huffed. "Fine, maybe a little. I just…this is my first _actual_ gig, Hunk. One that isn't for a dumb birthday party or sorority event. Forgive me if I'm a little anxious."

"If you sing as good as you look, I'm sure you'll be fine."

Lance froze and turned to look at the guy next to him, eyes wide. The guy clearly hadn't intended to say that out loud, because as Lance watched, his face turned beet red. "P-Pardon?"

The guy swallowed, resigned to the fact that he had unintentionally flirted with a random singer, and glanced up with a sheepish smile. "Sorry. That was um…kinda rude. I just couldn't help but overhear, and I'm just saying, I'm sure you'll be good."

A slow grin slid up Lance's face. "Because I'm good looking."

The beet turned to a cherry and Lance could see both Hunk and the bartenders getting a kick out of the spectacle. "Shut up," the guy muttered, burying his head into his hands.

Lance laughed, all nerves gone, and nudged the guy. "Don't worry about it. I'll take it as a compliment, coming from someone as hot as you."

Okay, the cherry had turned into a fire, and Lance glanced away to give the man a second to compose himself. Matt had turned to help another patron, so he settled his eyes on the sexy bartender and winked. "Two of whatever he's having. Hunk?"

Hunk ordered a Sprite (Lance made fun of him until he was reminded that Hunk was the designated driver and couldn't very well work sound equipment if he was inebriated) and the bartender came back in a few moments with a drink that was startlingly purple, sliding one in front of Lance in the other in front of the embarrassed guy.

He leaned a metal arm on the counter, which honestly surprised Lance for a moment, and raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. "Juniberry Jamba. Don't go getting my brother drunk, now."

He sauntered away to Lance's jaw drop and the other guy's spluttered protest of, "SHIRO!"

Hunk snorted, picked up his Sprite, and walked back to the stage, probably to help Pidge with the rest of set up, and Lance turned back to the guy, who was stirring the drink with a hard set to his face. "Sorry about that," he muttered. "He's…over protective."

Lance worried at his lip for a second before shrugging and taking a drink and _damn_ , that was fruity. "Not a problem."

He took a second to caress the guy's form, realizing that this was definitely the guy Matt had been talking about. He could see the resemblance, in the nose and the hair and the eyes and very much in the ass. This guy was hot, but-

"How the hell do you get away with a mullet?"

Lance bit back the words the moment they were out, watching as the guy turned to him in what could only be described as slow motion. "Excuse me?" he managed, looking like he had gotten it before.

Lance swallowed a drink and tried again. "I…sorry. That came out wrong. I just…I've never seen a guy pull off a mullet attractively."

All he received in response was a stare, and after a beat it was too stifling, so he thrust a hand out with a weak grin. "I'm Lance. Uh….Sanchez."

"Had to think about that, did you?"

The smirk the guy gave him was sly, and Lance found himself smiling more easily as his hand was taken. "Oh yeah. Forget my name all the time."

The guy laughed. "Keith Kogane. Shiro's my half-brother, so like…free drinks."

He said it with a shrug, lighthearted, and Lance felt something clench in his chest. "Um…yeah. That's cool. I'm just…playing a set."

Keith lifted an eyebrow. "So I heard. I meant it, by the way."

"Meant…?"

"You'll do great. And even if you don't, no one will care."

Lance snorted, lifting his glass to his lips and looking at Keith over top of it. "Why's that?"

"They'll be too busy staring at your ass."

He nearly spit his drink out, freezing at the last second and practically choking it on the way down. " _What_?" he croaked out.

Keith was laughing, lithe fingers tapping the edge of his glass as he waited for Lance to settle down. "You heard me. Staring. At. Your. Ass. I should know. I've been doing it."

He really should not have tried taking another sip to wash down the first. Matt and Shiro were both looking at him in amused concern, and while he'd love to have one of them perform CPR on him, just so he could say he'd been kissed by gods (or devils, if you believed in the temptation route) he was more focused on the incredibly attractive man in front of him. "Is that a…a hint?" he coughed.

Keith smirked and leaned on one elbow, looking up at the clock pointedly. Ten minutes before his set. "I'll be here when you're done."

Lance finally managed to collect himself, taking one last, long swig of the obnoxiously purple drink, and gave Keith what he hoped was a suggestive smile. "Like I'd let you leave."

The smile grew. "Gonna stop me, pretty boy?"

He almost keeled over at that. "Count on it."

Needless to say, his set went perfectly.

* * *

 _Six Months Later_

"I did not!"

"Did so!"

Keith laughed as Lance tackled him, shoving the water balloon he had been holding down onto his boyfriend's head, whooping triumphantly as the liquid spilled all down his hair and back. Keith snorted and grabbed Lance by the wrists, flipping him onto the grass. "Admit it," he teased. "You can't prove I hit you and not Hunk or Pidge."

Lance stuck his tongue out, water rolling down his temples to the ground below them. "Fight me, Mullet."

"Nah."

He leaned over and kissed him instead, sweat and water and the odd taste of rubber invading their senses.

Seconds later, they were soaked to the bone and shrieking, spinning to find Pidge flinging the garden hose at Hunk and sprinting into Keith's house, laughing her ass off.

Keith grinned at Lance. "Gang up on Pidge?"

He snickered and shut the hose off, picking up three water balloons in one hand. "Count on it. Hunk, come on!"

Hunk obliged happily.

* * *

 _One Year Later_

"I did it!"

Keith glanced up from his astronomy text book as Lance burst into the apartment, face nearly split in two from the grin on his lips. It was contagious, and Keith found himself starting to smile. "Did what, exactly? Win the lottery?"

Lance scoffed and darted over to the couch, waving a manila folder in Keith's face. " _NO_ , loser! Better! Altean Studios signed me!"

Keith's smile grew. "That's great, babe!"

Lance kissed him excitedly before flopping back against the sofa and clutching the envelope to his chest. "Dude. This is the beginning to _everything_ for me. For us."

Keith chuckled, thumbing at the pages of his book and leaning on Lance's shoulder. "How 'us?' I don't do anything for the band."

The sound Lance made in response to that comment was not remotely human, and while Keith was trying to figure out how vocal cords could produce such a noise, Lance jumped to his feet and straddled Keith, tossing the envelope to the couch and pressing his hands to either side of Keith's face. He squished them in, forcing Keith to make a duck face, and set his eyebrows in a furrow.

"You," he said very seriously, "are our biggest fan. You come to every rehearsal, every gig, every damn event, and you're always there for me here, too."

Keith tried to snort and pull back but Lance just held tighter, leaning down until their foreheads were touching and staring into his eyes. "I couldn't do this without you," he whispered. "I need you."

Keith finally nodded and Lance lightened up on his squishing, kissing him again and then swinging his leg back to the ground. "This Rockstar has to go shower because he is gnarly," Lance declared, shooting Keith a grin as he picked up his folder. "Feel free to join me."

"Nah. I'll be here, studying for my exam, like a _good student_." He paused, watching as Lance sauntered towards their room with more swing in his hips than necessary, and then shot a sly smile at his boyfriend's back. "Or maybe I'll be in our room. Waiting."

Lance glanced over his shoulder with an evil smirk on his face. "That a promise?"

"Count on it."

* * *

 _Two Months Later_

"Keith? You okay?"

Keith glanced over to find Lance watching him, propped up on one elbow in bed with a curious look on his face. Keith smiled thinly and padded back over to him, leaning across the sheets and kissing him gently. "Yeah. Just…nervous. I have one year left, Lance."

"I know. You'll do amazing, babe."

"But after I'm done with this program, I can apply to teach almost anywhere, Lance."

Lance's nose wrinkled. "Is that a bad thing?"

Keith slid back into bed and curled away from Lance. He didn't flinch when the tanned arm slid around his waist and tugged him back against a bare chest. "No," he admitted. "It's just…I never thought I'd get this far."

His voice broke and Lance kissed the back of his neck gently. "Hey. You're amazing, you know that?"

Keith rolled over, linking an ankle with Lance's and lifting a hand to drift over his lips. "I couldn't have gotten through this without you. I wouldn't even have passed last semester if you hadn't helped me. I know you're busy a lot now, but I really appreciate-"

"Hey. Get some rest. I know. It's okay. I love you. I'll be here when you wake up, and we'll keep talking then, okay?"

Keith smiled thinly, pressing his lips to Lance's nose. "That a promise, Pretty?" he yawned.

Lance laughed and pulled the covers up over them, tucking his head under Keith's chin. "Count on it."

* * *

 _Six Months Later_

"Do you want to go on a double dinner date with Shiro and Allura this Saturday?" Keith asked, looking up from his texting and following Lance as he paced the room, tossing things into a backpack.

Lance paused for a second, tongue peeking from his mouth, and then groaned. "Shit, I can't. Rolo, Nyma, Hunk, and I have to be at the bar by eight for set up. We probably wouldn't be done in time."

Keith pursed his lips, glancing back down at his phone. "We could do brunch too, if that's better. But Shiro and Allura work the day shift Saturday, so it couldn't be later than eleven."

"I have a gig running late Friday night, I'll be exhausted."

Keith slumped a little. He hadn't seen Shiro in almost two weeks, and he missed him more than he cared to admit. Ever since Lance had started playing more than just the Voltron Lions club, he had been with his sibling less and less.

Lance faltered and put his bag down, kneeling on the bed next to Keith and kissing his temple gently. "I'm sorry babe. I really am."

"I know. It's okay."

He took Hunk with him to brunch.

* * *

 _Three Months Later_

" _Europe_?" Keith snapped. "You're going to _Europe_?"

Lance, misunderstanding his irritation for excitement, grinned. "Yeah, isn't it awesome? Hunk and Pidge are both coming too. I wish you could come babe, but Altean studios doesn't-"

"Pay for significant others, I know," Keith growled.

Lance finally seemed to realize that Keith was mad and his smile fell. "What's wrong?"

Keith swallowed and ran a tense hand over his jaw, struggling to stay calm. "You're missing everything, Lance. My birthday, Christmas, New Year's, my _graduation_. Do you even care?"

He looked like a fish out of water in that moment, mouth opening and closing, and then Lance's disbelief slowly turned to anger. "This is my first international tour, and you're worried about New Year's?"

"That's not the point, Lance!"

"Then what is the point?"

"I don't see you anymore!" Keith shouted, clenching his hands at his sides and fighting not to shake. "You care more about your stupid music than you care about me, you always have!"

"Stupid?" Lance shrieked in outrage. "Fuck you! God, Keith, I have the chance of a lifetime! I knew you couldn't afford to come, so I was going to Skype you every night, call you all the time, text every day. But apparently I'm supposed to drop every chance I get because _someone_ has abandonment issues from when his mother left his sorry ass!"

Keith froze and Lance took a huge step back, a look akin to shame falling over his features. "Keith, I-"

"I think we should take a break."

The words were soft but certain, and Keith looked away as he said them, fingers trembling. Lance winced, moved a hand out, and then pulled back. "I…if that's what you want."

"It is."

"Okay."

"…okay."

Lance picked up his bag slowly, watching Keith with cautious eyes, and shouldered it, heading to the door. He paused, hand on the frame, and bit his lip. "I'll uh…I'll see you around."

"Yup."

It took every ounce of self-control for Keith to let him leave.

* * *

 _Two Months Later_

"Voltron Lions, Takashi Shirogane speaking. How may I help you?" Shiro answered the phone, pressing it between his shoulder and cheek as he wiped down the counter.

"Hey Shiro. How are you?"

Shiro let a grin split his face. "Pidge! It's great to hear from you! How's Europe? We miss you here, even if Matt won't admit it."

Matt, wiping down the other side of the bar, flipped him off. Shiro returned the gesture and switched ears, leaning back on the granite behind him.

"I'm doing all right. I've picked up bits and pieces of tons of languages. But that's not why I'm calling."

Shiro frowned. "Is everything okay?"

Matt glanced over his shoulder, forehead wrinkled in worry.

"Oh yeah, no, I'm fine," Pidge assured him. Shiro waved off Matt's concern as she continued. "It's actually about…um…could you and Keith get out here? Like…for the next concert? In London?"

Shiro nearly choked on his own saliva. "Pidge, that's in like…two days!"

"I know, but it's really important. Please. Hunk and I will pay for you guys. It's…it's Lance. I um…he hasn't been so hot. Please just get here as soon as you can. I'll transfer you the money, okay?"

"I…okay. Okay, we'll be there."

Shiro hung up the phone and ran his prosthetic down his face, flinging his towel at Matt's back. "What is _wrong_ with your sister?"

* * *

"I still don't see why you dragged me to _London,_ " Keith complained, crossing his arms as they waited to go inside the venue. "He doesn't want to see me."

"You don't know that," Shiro protested, handing their tickets to the person up front and leading Keith inside. "Besides, you've never been to London, and neither have I. Might as well see the sights while we're here."

"Right. _That's_ why you dragged me along."

In reality, Keith wasn't mad at Shiro for bringing him. He had been severely depressed the last few months. He had dropped his major and eventually been kicked out of college, going to work part time for Allura during the week instead. His astronomy books were collecting dust in the back of his closet, and every time he looked at them something nasty twisted in his gut. So he stopped looking.

When Shiro had abruptly pulled him from work and tossed him a suitcase and a change of clothes, saying they had a flight to London that evening, Keith had been certain he was going insane. But no, Shiro was very much telling the truth, and within six hours of the suitcase being thrown at his chest, they were tucked into a plane directly between a snoring old guy and a lady with a case of the sniffles.

Keith hated flying for the people alone.

When they had landed, it had been four am, but Keith's body was telling him that it was barely 8 in the evening, so he and Shiro had found an all-night sandwich shop and gotten coffee and a couple of subs before finding their hotel and forcing themselves to sleep for the whole day.

And now he was at Lance's concert.

He hadn't talked to Lance since their fight, but that didn't mean he hadn't been keeping tabs on his tour, watching his aired performances begrudgingly and tracking where he was going next. Hunk had kept in touch, texting every now and then to check up on him, and so had Pidge, and he appreciated it. He usually didn't respond, or if he did it was a one word answer, but he was grateful that they still seemed to care.

The crowd around them was deafening as the opening act played, some band Keith had never heard of that honestly made him think music was a mistake. Shiro seemed a bit perturbed at all of the leather and cursing, which was amusing in and of itself.

"What if he doesn't want me here?" he found himself asking again.

Shiro glanced down at him, looking relieved to have something to focus on other than the screaming punks on stage. "I told you, I'm sure he does. If he didn't, he-"

"Shiro? Keith?"

They turned to find Hunk there, wearing a t-shirt that said "SECURITY" and holding a flashlight. His face lit up when he saw that he was correct, and the next thing Keith knew he was being swept into a crushing hug, one that, he would admit, made him feel a little lighter.

"I can't believe you guys came!" he cried as he let go. "Pidge wasn't sure you would!"

His eyes flickered over Keith and he frowned. "Dude, you okay?"

"Nervous," Shiro offered.

Hunk nodded knowingly and waved as he was called away. The screamo band finally got off stage and Keith watched as Nyma and Rolo replaced them, Nyma on guitar and Rolo settling at the drums. He knew Pidge was backstage with a keyboard; she hated being on stage, plus backstage she could make all kinds of cool sound effects.

And then…

Lance.

When he strolled onto stage, the crowd started shrieking, and Keith was suddenly startled to realize just how many people were there to see him.

To _see_ him.

God, he had missed seeing him.

He was wearing black skinny jeans and dark blue converse, a matching blue button down thrown over top of a white tee. His nails were painted red.

Red was Keith's favorite color.

His breathing hitched as Lance greeted the crowd, voice smoother than he remembered it being, and he felt Shiro settle a hand on his shoulder. He leaned into his brother's touch, shutting his eyes and nodding gratefully as the music started.

The total show was about two hours, during which Lance played mostly original music, with a few covers and a lot of bad jokes tossed in here and there. Keith didn't even realize they had reached the end until Lance glanced ever so subtly off stage and then winked at the crowd.

"They're booting me in a hot sec, y'all. So um…I just…I wrote this last song about a month ago, and I haven't shared it yet because it's…it's personal. And there's someone…someone I hope hears it tonight."

The crowd quieted as Lance set his guitar down, letting Nyma take control of the chords and focusing his whole attention on the microphone in front of him, fingers curling around the base and eyes shutting for just a moment as he breathed.

" _I never let my guard go down._

 _But you messed me up when you came around._

 _When the high wore off, know you needed space_

 _But I don't wanna wait, I don't want a mistake._

 _Few thousand miles, and an ocean away_

 _But I see the sunrise, oh, just like the other day._

 _Picture your eyes as I fall asleep, tell myself it's all right_

 _Oh-oh, as the tears roll by._

 _Ooh, I wish I could feel your face_

 _Oooh, I'm helpless when I'm oceans away."_

At some point while Lance was singing, his eyes lifted and settled on Keith. He could see the exact moment Lance realized it was him, the way his voice trembled over the words, how his hands tightened around the mic, his body froze up. He kept singing, stare never leaving Keith.

" _I learned to fake a smile as the time runs out,_

 _I don't wanna wait, I don't want a mistake._

 _Few thousand miles and an ocean away_

 _But I see the sunrise, oh, just like the other day._

 _Picture your eyes as I fall asleep_

 _Tell myself it's all right, oh, as the tears roll by."_

Keith swallowed and gave a weak smile, vision blurred by tears, and after a minute he worked up the nerve to push away from Shiro, through the crowd to the walkway. Lance kept his gaze trained on him as the song slowed, and Keith knew it was nearing the end.

He broke into a sprint, vaguely aware of Hunk holding back a security guard and murmuring something to him, and, as the crowd cheered, he vaulted up the steps to the stage three at a time, coming to a screeching halt in front of Lance and dragging him in for the longest, most violent kiss he could muster.

Shrieks of delight resonated from the audience as Lance laughed against his lips, lifting his hands to swipe his thumbs over Keith's cheeks, wiping away the stinging tears that had finally fallen.

"I'm so-"

Lance cut him off, pressing a much gentler kiss to his mouth and then leaning their foreheads together. "Me too. How did you-?"

"Pidge."

He chuckled again, taking a breath. "Of course. I should have known, that little shit."

Keith's eyes darted around Lance's face and his resolve crumbled. "You wrote that…for…?"

"For you, you dummy."

He wrapped Lance in a tight hug, pressing his face into his shoulder and probably getting tears all over his outfit. He couldn't care less, especially when Lance lifted his hands to hug back. The roar of the crowd was faint, just a small reminder that they were not, in fact, having this moment in private, and then Keith stepped back, squeezing his hands. "I'll be here when you're done," he promised.

Lance's face split into a grin. "Like I'd let you leave."

A smile played on Keith's lips. "What, gonna stop me, pretty boy?"

Lance winked, causing another shriek to start, and curled his hand around the mic again. "Count on it."


End file.
